


Distractions

by orphan_account



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: F/M, Lab Sex, Lup distracts Barry when he's just trying to do some work, they make a mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:28:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27267241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Barry’s never really been a cat person.He’d had one after he graduated, but whenever he’d settle down to write something, the cat would come and sit on his paper and bat the pen out of his hand, as if its only goal in life was to prevent him from getting anything done.Dating Lup reminds him of that experience.From the moment she’d walked into the lab, he’d known he was in trouble. Sure, she had a mug of coffee for him, but she’d also had a glint in her eye and her shortest skirt on. She’s perched on the table, her legs crossed, grinning down at him with a predatory look in her eye and her sharp, elven teeth bared. “Watcha workin’ on?”“Oh, uh, just – finishing up, finishing off the results of this experiment – the ambient magic, uh, how the magic in the atmosphere affects the Light -”His stammer hasn’t really bothered him in years, but with Lup’s bare thighs right on his eye level, he’s having a hard time getting his brain to play ball.“Oh, well, don’t let me distract you,” she says, and Barry smiles. So that’s how she wants to play it?
Relationships: Barry Bluejeans/Lup
Comments: 2
Kudos: 52





	Distractions

Barry’s never really been a cat person.

He’d had one after he graduated, because he’d thought it’d make him less lonely, but the creature actually just set off his allergies. Worse, whenever he’d settle down to write something, the cat would come and sit on his paper and bat the pen out of his hand, as if its only goal in life was to prevent him from getting anything done.

Dating Lup reminds him of that experience.

From the moment she’d walked into the lab, he’d known he was in trouble. Sure, she had a mug of coffee for him, but she’d also had a glint in her eye and her shortest skirt on.

She’s perched on the table, her legs crossed, grinning down at him with a predatory look in her eye and her sharp, elven teeth bared. “ Watcha workin ’ on?”

“Oh, uh, just – finishing up, finishing off the results of this experiment – the ambient magic, uh, how the magic in the atmosphere affects the Light -”

His stammer hasn’t really bothered him in years, but with Lup’s bare thighs right on his eye level, he’s having a hard time getting his brain to play ball.

“Oh, well, don’t let me distract you,” she says, and Barry smiles. So  _ that’s  _ how she wants to play it?

He grabs his pen up, desperately endeavouring to marshal his thoughts back on track and  _ not  _ stare at Lup’s thighs, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t watching from the corner of his eye.

And it seems like she knows it.

She stretches, painstakingly slowly lifting her arms above her head. Her sweater rides up around her midriff, and Barry tries not to stare at the flash of exposed skin, but it’s hard. She’s  _ gorgeous,  _ soft but toned, and it’s taking a substantial amount of willpower not to lean over and kiss that bare flesh in the places he knows would set her off.

But, instead, he turns back to his writing.  _ Ambient atmospheric magic of over 130 kilojoules may inversely affect the Light’s own output - _

Who’s he kidding? He’s scanned that last sentence a dozen times, but  _ a different organ  _ has taken over all thinking duties from his brain.

Lup clears her throat, and he looks up at her instinctually. She’s leaning back on her arms, now, and thrusting her chest forward, the swell of her breasts emphasised by the tight, woollen sweater she’s wearing. He licks his lips and draws a ragged breath, and she grins raptorially. The sight of those sharp, carnivorous teeth sends a shiver down his spine, a kind of prehistoric fear only adding to his lust.

“Sorry,” she says. “Didn’t mean to distract you.”

He’s about to tear his eyes away again, focus back on his work, when she slowly uncrosses her legs.

He’s on a perfect line of sight to see straight up her skirt, and his breath hitches as he catches a glimpse of what she’s wearing underneath – lacy and red, thin enough to be perfectly see-through, she’s wearing his favourite lingerie.

His hand moves, subconsciously, like he’s in a trance or a spell of her design, and comes to rest on her thigh, but her hand moves down to catch his own before he can trace his way up towards his goal. She hums in disapproval. “Nuh uh, Barold, you’ve got work to do. Save it ‘til after.”

A groan rises in his throat, and she laughs, a sound that could be described as  _ cruel  _ if he weren’t so into it. He lifts his hand back off her, mourning the feeling of her supple flesh under his fingers, and turns back to his paper again.

Had it always been so hard to concentrate? Barry can’t even remember.  _ The act of measuring of the Light’s output can be problematic, due to its natural fluctuations. Therefore, the average over a period of three hours has been calculated - _

He can’t think of what word would even come next. He can barely think in full sentences. His pen touches the paper, leaving an ink spot, but no words follow.

“Doesn’t look like you’re getting much done, babe,” Lup says, cutting through the fog clouding his mind. “Think I can help? Or, maybe you should take a break? You know, you humans can only maintain focus effectively for forty minutes at a time -”

“Yes,” he growls, and she laughs.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, I’ll take a break, fucking – come down here, Lup,” he throws the pen aside, not even registering how it rolls away off the table and onto the floor, his hands grabbing her by the hips, pulling her towards him.

She places a hand on his forehead to stop her forward momentum, and he growls again, but she just chuckles at him, shaking his hands off her and jumping off the desk to stand beside him. He swivels in his chair, his eyes glued to her, lips parted in lust, as she sashays around him until he’s turned 180 degrees, the desk behind him now.

Finally,  _ finally,  _ she steps closer, swinging one leg over his lap to sit astride him. But, like the tease she is, she knows exactly how much weight to put on him so that he can only feel the ghost of her pressure on his dick, straining to break free from his jeans.

He groans and bucks upwards, but she’s anticipated it, moving her own hips with him, and he doesn’t manage to steal any more of that delicious friction. Instead, she leans in, and kisses the soft flesh where his jaw meets his neck, a wet, sloppy kiss, sure to leave a hickey on him later. He can only moan again, deep in the back of his throat, and she trails similar kisses down his neck, inch by inch, agonisingly slow.

He’s practically panting by the time she pulls back, satisfied with her work. Her face is flushed, her mouth slightly open, her own breath coming in staccato gasps.

“Take this off,” she purrs, tugging at the hem of his shirt, leaning back to allow him just enough room to manoeuvre. He practically tears it off in haste to pull it over his head, tossing it to one side, and Lup places a hand on his belly, raking her nails gently across him as she leans in for a kiss.

He reciprocates eagerly, allowing her tongue to flick into his mouth, her lips sweet and hot and soft on his as she hungrily kisses him, her other hand balling in his hair, pulling just hard enough to make him sharply gasp through his nose as the hand she’s put on his stomach trails ever downward. His own hands on her hips press her down into him, and finally there’s that delicious friction on his cock. He bucks upwards involuntarily, almost dislodging her, and she grins into the kiss. As they settle, she grinds downwards into him, and he feels a moan rise up in his throat as her hips roll across him.

But, all too soon, she’s withdrawing. He almost whines, opens his mouth to beg, to plead with her, but she grabs the hem of her tight sweater and slowly, oh so slowly, lifts it over her head, revealing more skin inch by agonising inch. He chases the retreating clothing with his hands, running his fingers up her delicate skin until he’s pressing at the wiring of her bra. It’s red, flimsy, lacy, barely there, really, only existing to trace the contours of her breasts.

His ravenous mouth is on her in a second, before she’s even got the sweater fully over her head, kissing and sucking and nipping at her, kissing in a spiral from the outside in. She bucks her hips and gasps with every time his lips touch her, and when he finally reaches her nipple he flicks his tongue over it gently and she moans, soft and low and sweet and he almost comes right then and there.

Her arms wrap around his neck, pressing him further into her cleavage as he starts on the other breast, raking her fingernails down his back. He shudders as she grinds downwards once again, his hands coming to her hips and finding the release for her skirt. It’s got a zipper up one side, and he fumbles with it as his mouth works on her, and finally it releases, and he tears it away, throwing it aside and leaving her in just her lacy panties as she shivers and moans in his arms.

Eventually, she tugs lightly on his hair, and he pulls back, gasping for breath. Her face is flushed a deep red, her hair mussed up, her pointed ears pinned back. She stands, wobbling on unsteady legs. “Off,” she gasps, gesturing at his jeans. “Take these off.”

He lifts his hips from the chair just enough to rip the jeans down, taking his underwear with them in one swift move, and in a second she’s back on him again, her lips against his, even hungrier than before, if possible. This time, when she grinds on him, there’s only one layer of fabric between them, and he can feel that they’re sodden, that she’s absolutely soaked.

He reaches down and ghosts a hand over her hip, so softly there’s barely any contact at all, and gently glides his fingers around and down, to where her lacy red lingerie barely covers her clit. Her breathing comes even heavier as he gently traces a finger in a lazy circle around her, never quite touching where she so obviously wants him to.

“Touch me,” she whispers. “Touch me!”

He teases her for a second longer, but he’s as desperate as she is, and he can’t keep his fingers away. They glide over her slick clit and she bucks, rubbing across him again, and she moans, louder this time, as he presses the pad of his thumb into her.

She rolls her hips to meet his hand, groaning, and he revels in the way she throws her head back, her lips parted, her eyes closed. She twitches, and he can tell – she's already close.

He pulls his hand away and she pants, scowling at him. “You - you -”

But before she can continue, he’s pulling her lacy underwear aside, and with his other hand lining his dick up with her entrance. She sighs as he rubs across her lips, and grinds herself into him.

“Do it, Barry, fuck me,” she mutters, leaning down to murmur in his ear. Her breath sends shovers down his spine. “Put it in, fuck me, Barry, fuck me, please, please.”

How could he say no to that?

He lines himself up with her, and she barely waits for the tip to be prodding at her before she slams herself down to the hilt. They gasp in unison as her hips meet his, and for a second they just relish it as neither of them moves.

But then, Lup rocks forward, oh so slowly, and a groan is ripped from Barry’s throat. She’s so tight and hot around him, the angle of her sat in his lap giving him the delicious friction he craves so much as she rolls her hips forward and back.

Just as he thinks it can’t possibly get any better, she lifts herself up, pulling his dick out of her right up until only the very tip remains, and she slams herself back down. He grunts, almost on the edge already. Gods, if she doesn’t come soon -

He brings a hand down, searching for her clit, and as soon as his thumb hits home he starts to rub circles into her, following her bucking hips up and down. She moans, her head lolling forward, and his other hand comes up to grab a handful of her hair and pull just hard enough -

And then she’s moaning, a long, low, hot, continuous sound, and suddenly his lap is  _ sodden,  _ and he knows she’s come.

“Fuck, Barry, gods,” she says. “That was -”

But he’s not done yet.

He wraps his arms around her waist and, with a grunt, lifts her, kicking the chair out from behind him. She squeals as he spins around with her, swiping an arm across the desk, sending paperwork and pens and beakers and his coffee mug –  _ whoops –  _ flying, scattering across the floor. He can’t find it in himself to care, though, as he places Lup as gently as possible onto the table, lying her on her back, his dick still in her, and he pulls his hips back and  _ snaps  _ them forward. She gasps at his ferocity, his force, and he grins to hear it, but only for a second, as another thrust wipes the smug expression from his face.

She brings a hand up to rake his shoulder with her nails, but he grabs her wrist and slams it into the table, pinning her down. The shock on her face morphs into a look of undisguised lust as he grabs her other wrist, immobilising her totally.

He thrusts again, and the moan torn from her lips only serves to push him closer to the edge. He leans down and captures her mouth with his, still thrusting, still keeping her pinned, and with every thrust she whimpers into his mouth.

“I’m - Lup, I’m -”

“Wait - fuck – I'm close, I’m close,” she manages to bite out, around her moans.

He tries desperately to remember the laws of thermodynamics.  _ In a closed system the change in internal energy of the system – fuck, fuucckkkk. _

She whimpers once more, and it sets him off. He convulses as he thrusts into her, as deep as he’ll go, before he tears himself back out again, ramming back in to the hilt. Dimly, he’s aware of Lup writhing beneath him as she comes again, but his mind is totally blank, his body spent, and as he comes back to himself, he finds that he’s lying atop her, his head on her chest.

“Holy fuck,” he says, and she grins up at him.

“Holy fuck,” she agrees, and he leans down to kiss her. She’s soft and loving and  _ Lup. _

And then he looks around. “Aw, fuck, Lup, we’ve made such a mess.”

The mug has shattered, the puddle of now-cold coffee has soaked his papers, and their own fluids are dripping down his legs. He notices with a grimace that the papers he’d been working on have been totally soaked.

“I’m  gonna have to start over.”

“I’ll, uh, come  _ help,”  _ she grins, and he laughs.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment!!!! I'd love you forever and I'd love to know if you came to this lmaooooo


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